


Classification: Little

by chvotic



Series: Irondad NSAP [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe, Angst, BAMF Michelle Jones, Baby Peter Parker, Bed-Wetting, Bullying, Classification AU, Crying, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Flash Thompson Being A Jerk, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Little Peter, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, NOT STARKER - Freeform, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Nicknames, Non-Sexual Age Play, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Precious Peter Parker, Self-Esteem Issues, Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man), Swearing, Thumb-sucking, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Wetting, caregiver tony stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26267812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chvotic/pseuds/chvotic
Summary: Written in big, bold letters at the very bottom of the page was two words.CLASSIFICATION: LITTLE.OrPeter receives his classification letter that will either change his life, or not change it at all.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Irondad NSAP [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903627
Comments: 14
Kudos: 346





	Classification: Little

**Author's Note:**

> firstly, as always:  
>  **THIS IS NOT. ST*RKER.**  
>  all other relationships are platonic as well
> 
> anyways,  
> a few people expressed that they'd like to see how peter got classified/became tony's little, and so i have created this! i hope i did alright. 
> 
> if you're new here, this links with _'Spider-Baby's Snow Trip',_ but you don't necessarily have to read that one to understand this. it's just in the same universe, and is based before that fic takes place.
> 
> i hope you enjoy :)

“Alright class.” Mr. Harrington spoke up as he walked into the room, Peter, Ned and MJ’s conversation coming to a quick halt when they noticed the stack of white envelopes in their teacher’s hands.

Mr. Harrington dumped them on his desk then took off his bag, the whole room silent. Everyone knew what those letters meant, and the nervous energy could be felt within the entire room.

“As you would know, you all took your classification tests a few weeks ago. All your results are ready for your collection, I have them all right here with me.” Mr. Harrington smiled as his eyes surveyed the group of nervous teenagers. “I will hand them to you at the end of class.”

A hushed whisper echoed over the class as Mr. Harrington organised the envelopes into a neater pile on his desk.

Class continued as normal, but Peter couldn’t stop thinking about the stupid letters sitting on Mr. Harrington’s desk. His stomach rolled and churned with anxiety, and he was barely able to stop himself from chewing on his fingernails as he tapped his foot on the floor.

Peter was terrified. Everyone in his grade would be finding out what their classification was today, and the envelopes had been handed to their last period teachers, which in his case was obviously Mr. Harrington. If Peter was confident that he was going to be a Neutral, he wouldn’t be feeling so anxious right now.

After what felt like the longest class he’d ever taken, Mr Harrington ended class early to begin talking about the letters.

“I’ve noticed that a lot of you are restless.” The man glanced around the class; eyes soft with some kind of understanding. Peter shifted in his seat and began to tap his foot against the tiles again. “I understand, finding out about your classification is very exciting and a nerve-wracking process. I’ve gone through it myself, but really, it’s not that big of a deal.”

_Not that big of a deal?_

There was a long pause before he continued, voice a little more serious.

“Please keep in mind, that in a few months you will be organised into a few specific classes and programs related to your classification.” Peter’s heart began to beat a little faster with anxiety. “We will know if you lie, as every staff member will be informed of each pupil’s classification. Some of you might have some pretty big changes, while some of you may not.”

Peter knew he was talking about the Littles.

It was mostly only the Littles that had changes to their schedule, in which they would have scheduled nap times and other necessities based on their headspace range. Peter had researched the topic endlessly and had gone in depth with the other two classifications as well, just to make sure he was prepared for everything.

Secretly, he knew he wasn’t prepared for any of it. Peter was terrified. He didn’t want to end up in that small percentage of Littles, but there was something nagging at him that just made him know that the result he got he wasn’t going to like.

No. He couldn’t possibly be a Little. Maybe he had… Little tendencies?

_No_. He wasn’t any part Little. He couldn’t possibly be a Little.

Peter was lying to himself and he knew it.

“Also, don’t worry. These changes will be gradual, and if you do not wish for other students to know your classification, that is perfectly okay. I do ask that none of you force your friends to tell you their classification, it can be fairly hard for some individuals.” It was odd, seeing and hearing Mr. Harrington so serious. “Anyways, I’m sure you’re all itching to get your hands on these.”

With that, Mr. Harrington began handing out the envelopes. Peter picked at his nails as Ned and MJ’s were dropped off, then Flash’s, then Betty’s.

The last to be handed out was Peter’s. He stared at it, then picked it up and put it in his backpack.

God. Peter was terrified. He didn’t even want to look at it.

Upon exiting the class, Peter felt incredibly overwhelmed. Looking around the hallway, all students had a similar envelope. Most had been opened, and thanks to his hearing, Peter could hear nearly every conversation as they walked past.

_“What are you? I’m a Neutral.”_

_“Me too.”_

_“Most of the school will be Neutrals anyways, I don’t know why we have to do these stupid tests.”_

Not one person had he heard was a Little. Most were Neutrals, and as he walked through the hall, there were even a few Caregivers.

“Are you going to open yours now?” Ned asked when they reached the front of the school, MJ already gone.

Peter shook his head. “I think I’ll open it at home. You?”

Ned smiled at him. “Yeah, same.”

With that, they did their secret handshake and parted ways.

Peter shoved the envelope in his pocket and pulled out his earbuds. Once music blasted in his ears, he headed toward the subway to get himself home. He was supposed to go patrolling tonight, but he hadn’t been expecting to get his classification letter. There was no way he could concentrate on patrol now that the letter was in his backpack, practically burning a hole through the fabric.

When he arrived at the apartment, it was empty. May was working a long shift, so he would be alone until late. Which, of course, was the exact reason why Peter had decided to go on patrol on this particular night. Now, he has a piece of paper that could change his entire life.

He sat down on his bed and pulled out the letter, the pain in his stomach becoming even more intense.

Peter sucked in a deep breath and ripped open the envelope before he could hesitate anymore. He pulled out the paper and opened it as quickly as he could, eyes scanning over the words. The first portion was printed on every letter, so he barely read it and skimmed to the bottom of the page where information related to his specific classification was located, along with the classification itself.

It was from there when Peter felt his world crashing down on him. He didn’t even read the large paragraph that was printed before the word that would either change his life or not change it at all.

Written in big, bold letters at the very bottom of the page was two words.

**CLASSIFICATION: LITTLE.**

Peter stared at the words, jaw slack. _No._

_He knew it._

His worst nightmare was coming true.

Tony was never going to want to talk to him again.

Against his will, tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over his cheeks. Large droplets soaked into the paper and smudged the words, making them illegible. However, the big bold letters stating his classification continued to stare back at him, and it was then when Peter realised how truly fucked he was.

Tony wouldn’t want a Little being Spider-Man. He wouldn’t want a Little in the lab, ruining all his things. Peter was already a clumsy kid, and now it was going to be even worse. He had no idea what Tony’s classification really was, but it sure wasn’t a Little. The world had come to the assumption that Tony Stark was a Neutral. Tony never denied it.

God, what was May going to think? She already had a lot on her plate with work, she wouldn’t be able to look after some baby at the same time. She wasn’t even a Caregiver, which only made it fifteen times worse.

It was then he realised he hadn’t even seen what headspace he fell under.

Scared of the answer, Peter tried to read the printed words through his blurred eyes, only for his stomach to stop considerably more.

_Headspace range approximately under two years. An official Caregiver will be required within one month of classification date._

Under two.

He was a fucking _baby_.

Yeah, he’d suffered bedwetting for a long time. He still did every now and then, but back then, Peter barely knew what a classification meant.

A few years ago, their school introduced the students to the idea, and ever since Peter had been paranoid. Some students made it very clear how much they hated Littles, and through his endless amounts of research, he’d found that Littles were the most discriminated classification out of the three.

There were multiple laws that prevented Littles from doing specific things, but there were also many that enabled them.

None of this made him feel any better.

Deep down, Peter knew there was something wrong with him. He’d searched up symptoms, or more so, signs that Littles showed before they were classified, since it was common for Littles to show signs much earlier than Caregivers and Neutrals. Neutrals didn’t even show anything at all because, well, they were _normal._

Some people even got Caregivers prior to the test because they knew what they were going to be, since Littles and Caregivers were often drawn to each other. Apparently.

Of course, symptoms of being a Little included bed wetting or just lack of bodily function control in general, uncontrollable bursts of emotions _(a nicer way of describing tantrums)_ among other things like oral fixation and separation anxiety from a parent or guardian. Even becoming tired a lot more often than the average teenager.

All those symptoms in which Peter had.

It had always been hypothetical. Peter had forced himself into believing that there was no way he was one of the small percentages of Littles and had become comfortable in the denial. No wonder he got so damn emotional over things or couldn’t keep his pen out of his mouth. Ned had always gotten annoyed with him for chewing on his pens when Peter borrowed them.

Peter curled up in his bed, the paper screwed up in his arms as he held it to his chest. He sobbed into his pillow, unable to control the fear and uncertainty he felt as he cried. He wasn’t sure how long he cried for, but eventually, the tears came to a stop, and all Peter felt was this fuzziness all around his brain.

It wasn’t a new feeling; he’d felt it before after highly stressful situations or when he was especially upset. Like when Tony had yelled at him for the Ferry, after he had brought the plane down, when Flash would say something more hurtful than usual. Fuck, had that been his headspace?

_Shit._

Peter picked himself up off his bed and sat down at his desk instead. Then, he pulled out his homework.

He had a lot; he’d been falling behind a bit and could hardly concentrate in class lately. Of course, struggling in a general school setting was another sign that someone was a Little, and of course, he had that fucking sign. He had every fucking symptom he could find on the internet.

Some of his classes would be changing too. Peter was going to be separated from his friends and most of his peers for a few of his classes, and he wouldn’t even be allowed to do some subjects! When he disappeared from certain classes, everyone was going to know what his classification was. Being a Little was the hardest to hide, especially in a normal high school.

It seemed that Parker Luck had struck Peter once again. Why couldn’t he be a Neutral like May? Or even a Caregiver? Any of the two would be better than this.

Tony was never going to want to see him again.

Which is exactly why Peter wasn’t going to tell him.

So, instead of texting Ned and MJ what his classification was, Peter forced himself to do his homework. He tried to keep his brain distracted as the night dragged on, but it was found to be difficult.

It was almost eleven when May finally came home, and Peter was beyond exhausted. His brain was fuzzy again, but he ignored that and hid his classification letter in one of his drawers, one that was filled to the brim with useless shit that was unlikely for May to go through.

“Hey honey.” May said as she opened his bedroom door, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re meant to be asleep. What’re you doing up?”

“Sorry, May.” Peter sighed, suddenly realising that he was chewing on his thumbnail. He yanked his hand away from his mouth and looked to his aunt. “I was finishing my homework.”

“This whole time?” May frowned and padded over to him. She caressed his cheek gently, thumb rubbing at his skin. “Honey, you need to give yourself a break. Have you eaten?”

“No.” Peter replied, sheepish. “I’m sorry. I wanted to finish everything before tomorrow.”

“Don’t apologise. It’s okay.” May kissed the top of his head. “Come on, I’ll make you something.”

Peter sniggered, then May playfully swatted him on the back of the head.

“My cooking isn’t that bad.”

Peter looked at her for a solid five seconds, before they both burst out laughing.

“Well, it’s too late to go out for dinner, so a frozen meal it is.”

Peter didn’t particularly like frozen meals, but there was no way he was going to make a fuss about it. He was starving now that he thought about it, and he’d take just about anything at this point.

Soon, he was in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a half-filled stomach. The frozen meal had done the bare minimum in satisfying his high metabolism, but he was going to ask May for more. She was taking extra shifts as it is, and he didn’t want her wasting more money on him than she needed to.

The more he thought about his classification, the more he remembered how many obvious signs he had. The bed wetting, the almost-accidents during classes over the years, the oral fixation. Separation anxiety from May after Ben died, which had somewhat also transferred onto Tony as well. Being tired all the time.

Peter had always been an emotional kid, but the deeper the thought, the more he realised _how_ emotional he got. He cried over the stupidest things, like a… like a toddler. That’s what he was now, right?

Tony and May were going to hate him. Ned and MJ too. Fuck, if Flash ever found out about this, he’d never be able to live it down. If Flash found out, the whole school would find out. Mr. Harrington’s speech was bullshit. There was no way he could hide this from everyone at school. They were going to find out soon enough, it was inevitable.

Peter rolled onto his side and curled up into the tightest ball he could.

School wasn’t going to be fun tomorrow.

What made it even worse was that tomorrow was Friday, which meant it was lab day. Usually that was something to be excited about, because he loved going to see Tony, but now he just dreaded it. What if he slipped and Tony figured out everything and kicked him out?

Peter wouldn’t be able to live with himself if that happened.

He couldn’t lose anyone else.

Eventually, into the early hours of the morning, Peter finally drifted off to sleep, filled with intense dread for the day that was awaiting him.

-

“Hey Peter!” Ned chirped when Peter met him at his locker, a huge smile on his face. Peter smiled in return, quickly doing his locker code before he switched out his books. His eyes were drooping already from the lack of sleep, but he forced himself to match Ned’s buzzing excitement beside him. “Guess what!”

“What?” Peter tried not to wince. It had to be something to do with the envelope, and it didn’t help the intense nausea he felt deep in his gut. It had been there all morning, and he wasn’t sure if it was all the nerves or if he was genuinely getting sick.

“I got classified as a Neutral with Caregiver tendencies!”

Peter’s eyes widened and he turned to Ned. “Really?”

“Yeah! Isn’t that cool?” If Ned had Caregiver tendencies, that meant he’d probably figure out or had already figured out what Peter was.

“That’s cool.” Peter smiled genuinely and closed his locker. “I’m so happy for you, man.”

“Thanks!” Ned beamed, but it was obvious he wanted to know Peter’s classification. When Peter didn’t say anything, Ned recovered quickly, and they began to walk to homeroom. “I bet MJ’s a Neutral.”

Peter smiled but didn’t say anything. He was scared if he did, he’d vomit.

He was insanely jealous of Ned’s happiness; despite how much he didn’t want to be. He was jealous, because he wanted to be happy with his classification too. Peter wanted to be excited about the future, not terrified of it.

“Hey Penis!” Flash jolted him out of his thoughts when the bully purposely knocked into him. Peter felt it coming but didn’t dodge it, but instead, he flinched involuntarily. Flash stopped his taunts for a moment and looked straight at him, eyes flickering over his face. Peter looked away and continued to walk. “What’s wrong with him?”

Fair question. What _was_ wrong with him?

“Are you okay?” Ned asked as they entered homeroom, MJ already waiting for them at the back of the room. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Ned eyed him, and Peter could already see the Caregiver in his friend. Internally, he was kicking himself for not having realised sooner. Like he said before, Littles and Caregivers tended to hang around with each other. Even the Neutrals with Caregiver tendencies.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Peter shook his head with a faint smile. “Nah, its okay. I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

“Hey losers.” MJ chimed in; eyes narrowed in Peter’s direction. “Are you okay?”

Peter sighed and resisted rolling his eyes. “ _Yes._ ”

“So,” Ned leaned over MJ’s desk and battered his eyes sweetly. Peter repressed his laugh at the unimpressed but knowing look on MJ’s face as Ned sucked up to her. “I know we’re not supposed to ask… but I really wanna know if I was right…”

“Yes, idiot. I’m a Neutral. What a shocker.”

Even though being a Neutral was the most common classification, MJ looked proud. Peter’s stomach turned with sadness and once again, jealousy. He wished he could feel the same way. Peter wanted to feel proud of his classification. Not ashamed.

“Yes!” Ned cheered and gave her a high five. Peter smiled, but the smile had become fake.

“And what’re you?” MJ asked without any hesitation. “Was I right?”

“Yeah! Well, half right.” Ned beamed again. “I’m a Neutral with Caregiver tendencies.”

MJ gave him a fist bump. Then, both his friends turned to look at him. Peter sent them a wobbly smile and looked away, and almost went to raise his thumb to his mouth again. Instead, he gripped the side of the table hard enough he was sure it might crack under the pressure.

Fuck, now that he knew for sure, it was harder not to give into the tendencies. More so, he had hardly noticed them before now. Now, there were so many real signs that meant he was going to be a Little. That he wasa Little. That he had always been one.

None of his friends asked him what his classification was, but his silence probably made it more obvious.

He ignored the thoughts, and with that, their homeroom teacher entered the room and began to take attendance.

-

The rest of Peter’s day continued in a similar fashion. Flash would pick on him every now and then, the boy clearly interested in what his classification was. Peter found out that Flash was a Neutral, like the majority of his grade and the world population. He wasn’t surprised at all by the new information, and it only served to make him want to cry. Why couldn’t he be normal like everyone else?

Peter didn’t even know if there were any other Littles in his grade yet. There had to be, right? Even if it was the least common classification, it wasn’t _that_ uncommon… right?

Similar thoughts ran through his mind as he stepped into Happy’s car. “Hey Happy.”

“Hey kid.” Happy replied, which left Peter a little surprised. Usually, he just got a grunt in return, which Peter would take great advantage of and annoy Happy the entire way to the Compound. “Something wrong?”

“What?” Peter asked, then shook his head in embarrassment. “No, I’m fine.”

Happy eyed him for a moment through the review mirror then shrugged. The car pulled away from the curb and soon they were on the way to the Compound.

Peter was so nervous he thought he might actually throw up before they got there, fingers nervously pulling at a loose string in his hoodie as they drove. The car was silent, silent enough that Happy didn’t even need to put up the privacy screen to shut Peter out, which was always extremely hilarious to him. Peter would always continue to talk because he knew Happy could still hear him.

This led Peter’s mind to wonder what Happy would think of him. The man disliked him enough, if he found out he was even more of a child he probably wouldn’t want to drive him anywhere ever again.

Peter looked up from his thoughts just in time to see Happy texting while driving, which made Peter’s eyes narrow. He hated when people did that, and he’d never seen Happy do it before.

Before he could say anything, the man sent the text and put his phone out of sight. Peter wondered who he was texting. At the same time, he glanced to Peter. Peter quickly looked away and returned his gaze to the window.

Eventually they reached the Compound, Peter beginning to realise that he shouldn’t even be here. A baby didn’t belong in such a professional place like this.

The lift ride up was silent until they arrived at the lab. “See you in a few hours, kid.”

“Bye Happy.” Peter smiled, then stepped out of the lift without another word. Happy nodded to him as the doors shut, which Peter found rather strange. He didn’t think too much of it and headed deeper into the lab.

“Hey Underoos.” Tony’s voice echoed from the far corner of the lab, where the man was rifling through a stack of boxes. “How was school?”

“It was fine.” Peter replied as he sat down at his own desk. “What are you doing?”

“Pepper’s making me sort out this sh- stuff.” Tony sighed, then tossed an empty box behind him. It skidded across the floor, almost to Peter’s feet. It read _Howard Stark_ on the side. “It’s been here for years. Since the StarkExpo, actually.”

“What is it?” Peter asked, not really in the mood to make more web fluid. “Your Dad’s stuff?”

“Yeah.” Tony sighed again. “You know what, Pepper can wait. Whatcha want to work on?”

“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged. Tony turned around to look at him for the first time since Peter had arrived. His face was covered in grease. “I just… don’t know.”

This caused Tony to frown. Shit.

“Happy texted me earlier, he said you were acting weird.” Peter paled a little. _Of course, Tony was who Happy was texting._ “I back up his statement. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah. I just haven’t been feeling well today.” It wasn’t a lie. Peter had been feeling sick all day long. “It’s fine.”

“How about we take it easy, then?” Tony suggested as he got up from the floor and walked across the lab towards Peter. The man pulled over one of the desk chairs and sat down beside him, hand coming to rest on his knee. Peter looked away, one six letter word floating through his mind. “Buddy, look at me.”

Peter did. “Sorry.”

“What? What are you sorry for?” Tony asked and squeezed his knee. “It’s not your fault you’re feeling sick. We can watch movies until Happy comes to pick you up, if you want?”

“Okay, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony.” Tony sighed through a smile. “Are you ever gonna call me by my actual name?”

Peter smiled; a real smile this time. Just being around his mentor made him want to forget about his classification. “Nope.”

“Yes, you will.” Tony laughed before he stood. “I’ll get you one day. Come on, bud, let’s go upstairs.”

Peter followed his mentor into the lift, wondering if this will be the last time that he would. May was bound to find out about his classification at some point, whether it be her finding the letter in his drawer or the school letting her know. The thought of the people he held most dear to him knowing scared him to death.

He had been so deep in thought, he jumped when an arm wrapped around his shoulders. Tony rubbed his arm, the silence between them stretching as the lift continued its ascent. Soon, they were at Tony’s floor, and all Peter wanted to do was curl up and hide. His head felt fuzzy again.

Peter sat down on the couch with a sigh, barely able to resist the overwhelming urge to shove his thumb in his mouth. Tony bustled around in the kitchen doing who knows what, FRIDAY showing Peter a bunch of movies on the TV for him to pick. He scrolled through them for a while, before he picked Cars.

When Tony re-entered the room during the first scene of the movie, Peter saw the frown appear on his face.

The man didn’t say a word as he sat down and handed Peter a plate of mac n cheese. Peter took it gratefully and began to shove spoonfuls in his mouth, his stomach practically eating itself with hunger at this point.

“You sure you’re feeling sick?” Tony laughed, which made Peter pause. “I was just joking, kiddie.”

Peter just smiled a little and continued to watch the movie.

Throughout the night, Peter found that the fuzzy feeling was becoming more and more prominent. Somehow, he’d ended up slumped against Tony, head rested comfortably on the billionaire’s shoulder as he watched the movie. They were on to Cars 2 now, and it was getting closer and closer to the time that Happy usually drives him home.

Peter hadn’t been brave enough to ask if he could sleep over yet. Now, he knew he would never get the chance. Knowing his luck, he’d we the bed, and Tony would find out everything. He’d find out Peter’s classification, he’d find out how young he was while in headspace, and everything would go downhill from there. Peter would be a burden to the man, and that was the last thing he wanted.

“You sure you’re doing alright?” Tony asked, arm rested on the back of the couch, not quite around Peter’s shoulders but almost there. Peter nodded and pulled his knees to his chest, eyes trained on the screen. If he looked at Tony, he’d probably cry, and he didn’t want that to happen. “Okay.”

Tony didn’t push, which Peter was grateful for.

“Boss, it is time for Young Peter to return home.” Tony sighed, the air rustling Peter’s curls which tickled the skin on his forehead. Peter felt his mood decline even more. He didn’t want to go home. He didn’t want to see the drawer he’d stashed his classification letter in. “Mr. Hogan is waiting for him downstairs.”

“Thanks Fri.” Tony said, then removed his arm. “Up you get, kiddo. Time to go.”

Peter almost whined but held it back. That would be a dead giveaway.

When he finally looked at his mentor, he was surprised to see the slightly saddened expression on his face. He wasn’t looking at Peter, more so at the TV screen, jaw clenched as if he wanted to say something. Peter waited, but when Tony turned to him, the expression was gone so quick he began to wonder if he’d imagined it.

Together, they made their way down to the garage to meet Happy. With a quick hug goodbye between Tony and Peter, he was guided into the car.

The drive home was the same. Peter didn’t speak, shoes off as he hugged his knees to his chest. He stared out the window, the bright lights of the city flashing past as Happy took him back to the apartment. The bright lights were fascinating to him, and he found himself lost in thought as he took it all in.

At least May would be home tonight, so he wouldn’t be alone.

They were parked outside of the apartment within what felt like seconds. Peter trudged up the stairs after saying goodbye to Happy, trying his hardest not to cry.

The moment he entered the apartment, he knew something was wrong. Especially by the way May was sitting, concerned expression directed toward him, a crumpled piece of paper in her hands. Peter knew what it was immediately, and he couldn’t help but bury his face in his hands and let the tears finally fall.

“Oh, sweetheart.” May got up from the couch and wrapped him up in a tight hug. “It’s okay. You’re alright.”

Peter just cried into his shoulder, the fuzzy feeling becoming so much worse. It had never been this bad before, and all he wanted was to curl up on the floor and cry until he couldn’t anymore. The urge to suck on his thumb became harder to ignore as May led him over to the couch, gently nudging him to sit down.

Once he was tucked into his Aunt’s side, the woman began to talk. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s s’upid.” Peter hiccupped, barely aware of the way he had begun to chew on his fingernails, just inches away from tucking on his thumb. “I don’t want to b-be a Little, May.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a Little.” May soothed, her head resting on top of his. “Honey, you know you can tell me anything. You being a Little doesn’t change anything for us, I still love you. Just like when I found out about Spider-Man. I didn’t love you any less then, and I don’t love you any less now. I love you so much, Peter.”

“It’s expensive.” Peter whispered. “’M a baby. You’re… you’re not a C-Caregiver.”

Peter could practically hear the frown on May’s face as the room fell silent for a few seconds.

“We’ll figure it out. We always do.” May gently rubbed his arm, then pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Does anyone else know? Did you tell your friends or Tony?”

Peter blanched and almost choked on his spit. “No. N-no, no. I can’t tell them, especially M-Mr S-Stark.”

“Why not?” May asked, seemingly shocked by his small outburst. “You know they would support you one-hundred percent. They won’t love you any less, hun.”

“Yes, they _w-will._ ” Peter sobbed out and squeezed May just a bit tighter. “Mr. S-Stark will hate me.”

“No, he won’t.” May sounded so sure. “He could never hate you for being who you are. Tony could never hate you, Peter, and neither will your friends. I think it would be good if you let them know.”

“I can’t.” Peter shook his head, too ashamed to even look at his Aunt.

“I won’t force you, but I think you should.” Peter knew that she was probably right, he couldn’t hide it forever, it would eventually come out. “It will help you out in the long run. Just think about it for me, hm?”

“M’kay.”

For the next hour or so, Peter cuddled with May on the couch, mind running a mile an hour. Now, Peter was in bed with May tucking him in like he was… like he was a toddler. Well, he was, wasn’t he?

“I love you.” She kissed his forehead, then brushed his curls from his face. Peter’s eyes were watery, and he just knew he was on the brink of another meltdown. His brain still felt like it was filled with fog, but he ignored it as he let May dote over him.

“Love you too, May.”

When she left, Peter rolled onto his side and tried to keep it together. Eventually, he couldn’t, and the tears broke free for the second time that night. This time, he pushed his thumb into his mouth to soothe himself, only to be filled with shame at the action.

Still, he didn’t take it out, and eventually cried himself to sleep.

-

Despite how much he didn’t want to, Peter went to school on Monday.

Ned and MJ had questioned if he was alright, but he’d just nodded and smiled and continued like nothing was wrong. Really, his mind was still filled with hundreds of thoughts at once and had been all weekend. He was pretty sure he’d come closest to dropping than he ever had, now that he knew for sure that he was a Little. Before, he had just denied it and pretend the signs didn’t exist.

Now, it all became a bit too difficult to ignore.

Everything had been going smoothly, and smoothly as it could go, until Gym. Gym didn’t bother him anymore, thanks to his powers, and he could go most classes without really breaking a sweat. However, he continued to act like he was terrible at sports and physical activity in general, like he had been before the bite. When he still had his asthma.

Now, he had another thing to hide.

The thoughts alone made him want to break down and cry again, but he held it in and stood to the side of the basketball game. Flash was being a ball hog like usual and made a point not to throw it to Peter, even when he was free. Eventually Peter gave up on trying and let his thoughts take over instead.

He had been so lost in his own head that he didn’t realise the ball was coming to him. His senses warned him, of course, but he reacted a second too late. Before he knew it, he was on the floor, and his head was pounding. The basketball bounced away from him, and too his horror, tears welled up in his eyes. It _hurt._

Peter bit down on his lip as he sat there, breathing heavily. He had gotten hurt before, he got hurt on patrol all the time. So why now was he about to sob about it?

_He had been in denial before. But now he knew. Right now, he was probably on the brink of his headspace. Babies cry when they get hurt._

“Peter!” Ned yelled and kneeled down beside him. The rest of the class stood around and watched, Peter too scared to look up at them. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah.” Peter whispered, his voice cracking a little. “’M fine.”

“Are you sure?” Ned helped him stand.

“Parker!” Coach Wilson said as he also came over, whistle in his hand. There was an expression on his face that Peter had never seen before. An expression of concern, of worry. There was even a little bit of caution in the man’s actions as he looked Peter in the eye, and that’s when it hit him. Coach Wilson knew. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, Coach.” Peter frantically held back the sob that threatened to break free. “”M sorry.”

“Go to the bench, take a break.” Coach rested his hand on Peter’s upper back, then gently pushed him in the direction of the bleachers. Peter couldn’t stand the new, _gentle_ behaviour from Coach Wilson of all people, and it took everything in him not to cry. This was the first teacher to treat him differently. “Come back in when you’re ready.”

Peter went willingly to the bleachers, pointedly ignoring the cackles from Flash. It was obviously him who had thrown the ball at Peter. It was a Flash thing to do, to wait until Peter wasn’t paying attention to throw the ball at him.

Peter slouched in the bleachers; head bowed as he pushed away the fuzziness begging to consume him. It had never been so bad before. Maybe when he was underneath the concrete and rubble that Toomes dropped on him, or when he almost died bringing the plane down.

Now that Peter thought back to the incident, he probably had dropped into his headspace without even realising.

If his day couldn’t get any worse, as he was in the locker room getting changed back into his normal clothes, Principal Morita’s voice echoed over the intercoms.

_“Peter Parker to the principal’s office.”_

Peter’s stomach dropped. Ned looked at him, worry obvious on his expression. His friend had to know what Peter’s classification was, it was far too obvious. Peter would have to come clean, even if the boy already knew. But not now.

“I’ll meet you at class?” Peter asked, eyes still a little teary from the basketball incident. Thankfully he and Ned were the only ones left in the locker room.

“Yeah, of course dude.” Ned smiled at him. “Tell me what happens?”

“Yeah.” Peter returned the smile and finished putting on his shirt. “Bye.”

The walk to the Principal’s office was nerve wracking, his hands trembling when he reached out to knock on the door. Principal Morita waved him in, Peter’s body alight with anxiety when he noticed that the man wasn’t alone. The school nurse was also sat inside, a kind smile on her face.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Parker.” Principal Morita said, then gestured to the seat. “Take a seat.”

Peter did as he was told and brought a finger to his mouth to chew on his nail.

“I’m sure you’ve seen your classification results already?” The question was blunt. Peter’s breath hitched as he nodded, unable to hold eye contact. “Excellent. You appear to be rather nervous, Peter. How are you feeling?”

“’M fine.” Peter lied.

“I’ve called you in here today to talk about your future at this school. Kelly here will tell you the majority, as she is much more experienced in this department than I am.” Peter nodded along; eyes fixed on the pen holder positioned on the desk. There were a lot of bright coloured pens, and it gave him something to look at. It was also kind of intriguing.

“Alright, honey.” Kelly, the nurse he’d seen on multiple occasions since he’d come to Midtown, said sweetly. “There’s only a few things I want to talk about with you. In a month or so, you will be given a slightly altered schedule and some of your classes will change. This will include time for naps during the day, along with other things, like diaper changes if that’s required.”

Peter’s cheeks heated up with embarrassment. The thought of having his diaper changed was horrifying.

Yet for some reason, his mind brought up Tony.

If Tony was hearing this, the man would be disgusted. Peter once again thought about how the billionaire wouldn’t want a Little inside of his lab, or in the Compound.

But, for some reason, Peter wished his mentor was here.

Just thinking about his father figure brought tears to his eyes yet again.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Peter.” She continued. “There are other students who are going through the same thing as you. You’re not alone.”

_Then why did it feel like he was?_

-

Peter was kept in the office for an hour or so, and soon he was sheepishly walking back into class. He’d managed to keep calm throughout the ordeal, and now all he had to do was wait the rest of the day out. It was last period, anyways. He could make it.

He didn’t look at Ned or MJ, or anyone really, as he sat down in Mr. Harrington’s class. Mr. Harrington didn’t acknowledge him; he probably knew why Peter had been brought to the office. God, the thought of all his teachers knowing his classification…

Peter shook the thoughts away.

By the time class was over, Peter was once again a nervous wreck. He had to tell Ned.

“Do you want to get ice cream or something?” Peter asked as he packed his books into his bag at his locker. He waited for Ned’s reply as he closed the locker door and hefted his backpack onto his shoulders. “I need to tell you something.”

“Sure, dude.” Ned grinned at him.

Just before they could make it out of the building, however, Flash just had to appear. It was like he had been waiting by the entrance for them to arrive. He probably had, the bully always sought out opportunities to annoy Peter and on extension, Ned.

“Yo Penis!” Flash cackled as he stepped in Peter’s way. Peter stopped, a small glare forming on his face as he tried to step around the boy. Flash just moved with him. “Why’d you get called to the front office?”

“Leave me alone.” It came out a lot quieter than Peter had intended to, and once again, his cheeks flushed red.

“Y’know, rumour has it all the _babies_ are getting called into the office.” Flash continued, and Peter’s chest closed in a little at hearing the words. He tried to step around the boy again, but Flash just pushed him back. Peter let himself stumble, even though he could quite capably throw the boy across the room if he wanted to. “It wouldn’t surprise me if you were one of them.”

“Go away.” Ned snapped beside him. Peter took the opportunity to push past Flash, his hand wrapped around Ned’s wrist as he dragged his friend along with him. The bully continued to jeer and insult him as they headed through the exit, Peter not letting go of Ned until they were out of the crowd and Flash’s voice stopped.

They walked away from school in dead silence for a few minutes. Once he made sure there was no one from their school around to hear them, Peter took in a deep breath and blurted out the words he was so terrified of saying.

“I’m a Little, Ned.”

Ned, for his part, didn’t really react. He just looked at Peter for a few seconds before he grinned.

“That’s cool.” Peter’s heart hammered in his ears as he analysed his friend’s behaviour. “I’m glad you wanted to tell me.”

Peter was a little shocked from the response. But maybe he shouldn’t be, because Ned did have Caregiver tendencies…

“You don’t hate me?” Peter’s voice sounded incredibly small, smaller than it ever had. Peter pretended not to notice as he waited for Ned to reply.

“What?” Ned blurted, surprised. “Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“It’s gross.” Peter muttered.

“Are you forgetting the part where I said I have Caregiver tendencies? That doesn’t even matter, you’re my best friend. Even if I was a Neutral, I’d still love you. We’ve been friends since we were literally babies.”

May had been right. Now Peter just felt stupid.

“I just…” Peter sighed, hands trembling from where they were shoved in his pockets. “M-My headspace is so young.”

“So?” Ned shrugged. “Doesn’t change anything for me.”

Peter smiled, relieved. “Thanks man.”

“Do you have a Caregiver yet? Or is May going to look after you?” Ned asked as they approached the ice cream store they had been going to for multiple years.

“No. I don’t know.” Peter shrugged sadly. “We probably can’t afford it.”

“Oh.” Ned’s shoulders slumped a little. “Does anyone else know?”

“No. Just you, May and the teachers. Well, the whole school p-probably knows now because of Flash.” Peter buried his face in his hands and stopped walking. “T-this is so embarrassing, N-Ned! What a-am I supposed to do?”

Peter was panicking. He knew it. He could feel the panic attack coming, along with that fuzzy feeling.

“What about Tony Stark?” Peter’s breath hitched at Ned’s words, which his friend had said a little quieter so people around them wouldn’t hear what they were saying.

“ _No_. He can’t know.” Peter was about two seconds away from bursting into tears. He was so sick of crying, yet it was all he felt like doing. If he was a Neutral, he wouldn’t be feeling like this. If he was a Neutral, he wouldn’t have this stupid headspace in the back of his mind all the time. “H-He’ll hate me.”

“That’s stupid.” Ned snapped surprisingly quickly. “No, he wouldn’t.”

“B-but how do you know? He doesn’t even like k-kids!”

“If he didn’t like kids, why does he keep you around?” Ned deadpanned. For once, his friend wasn’t fanboying over the superhero. He was one hundred percent serious. “Come on, let’s get our ice cream and sit down somewhere.”

Peter just nodded and let Ned guide him into the shop. He remained silent as Ned ordered for the two of them, knowing their orders off by heart. Peter anxiously gnawed at his thumbnail, muscles twitching with anxiety as he tried to keep his breathing normal. He was working himself up.

Soon enough, they were seated in a nearby park. He wasn’t really all that hungry, but he ate the ice cream, nonetheless.

“Have you… been in headspace yet?”

Peter shook his head, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I d-don’t want to.”

“You know it’s unhealthy not to...” Ned trailed. “It can make you sick.”

“I know.” Peter did know. He knew every little thing about headspaces from his copious amounts of research. “But… I’m scared.”

“You should talk to May about it.” Peter shook his head. “Why not?”

“She worries too much about me already.” The panic had subsided, at least, for now. “I’ll be fine.”

“You can always talk to me about it.” Ned squeezed his shaking hand. “You know that, right?”

Peter smiled a little. “Yeah, I know. Thank you.”

-

Peter should’ve known that the constant stress he was feeling would end badly for him. Well, in a way, he did know. He just didn’t know when, or _where_ it would happen.

It was Friday. May was working an extra-long shift. It was lab day.

The first half of his day was okay. He still felt like shit, he was hardly sleeping and sucking on his thumb more often than not. He’d even wet the bed three times over the last week, and he couldn’t stand May’s increasing concern. He didn’t want to be a burden on her, which is why he’d told her to go to work today.

Peter had even gotten the guts to tell MJ. He told her the day after he told Ned, and for the first time ever, she’d given him a hug. She was never an overly emotional or affectionate person, so it had taken him by surprise. It had been a tight, almost suffocating hug, yet Peter couldn’t help but bask in the support. Maybe telling his friends about his classification wasn’t so bad after all.

After coming clean with Ned and MJ, he felt a little better. However, it didn’t make the fog in his brain clear. It made it even more intense instead.

He was in the cafeteria when it happened, the worst place to be. He had been eating as per usual, engaged in a conversation with his friends to distract himself from his headspace trying to drop. It was probably why he was feeling so shitty, but that only led him to wonder why he had never felt like this before. Maybe the knowledge of his classification cemented things? Maybe knowing for real that he was a Little really triggered his headspace?

Peter didn’t know. It was the one thing he hadn’t researched.

Flash, _of course it had been Flash,_ stormed over to their table with his group of friends. Peter silently prepared himself for whatever torment he was about to go through, hands shaking beneath the table where he had hidden them. Ned tensed up beside him as Flash’s annoying, screeching voice entered their ears.

“Hey losers.” Flash sniggered, which brought a chorus of identical sniggers from his friends, like it was the funniest thing in the world. Despite how often Flash called him a loser, for some reason, today it made him feel terrible. His heart began to pound as he sat there, taking deep breaths in a weak attempt to keep himself calm. “You do realise your friend here is a stupid baby, right?”

At the harsh words, intrusive thoughts started entering Peter’s head. Thoughts that were definitely coming from the Little side of him that was yet to fully come out.

“What is wrong with you?” MJ growled; eyes narrowed viciously in Flash’s direction. “You don’t know anything about him. Fuck off.”

“It’s pretty obvious.” Flash shrugged, eyes now zoning in on Peter. “Look at him. You're even acting like his protector and everything.”

“Fuck off Eugene.” Was MJ’s curt response. “No one wants you here.”

There was another chorus of snickers from Flash and his group. The mean laughter made Peter feel even worse, and tears were rapidly filling his eyes. Unable to stop himself, he raised one hand to his mouth and begun to gnaw on his fingers, just shy of pushing one into his mouth to suck. It was a bad move, because Flash and his friends could see him.

“It’s quite pathetic, actually.” Flash gestured to him. “Being a Little is disgusting. Who would want to look after some overgrown toddler? Look, he’s even sucking on his fingers now. What the fuck?”

Peter couldn’t stop the near-silent hiccup, tears spilling over his cheeks.

Ned immediately turned to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The cafeteria was beginning to quieten, as if they were just now noticing the commotion, and this only made the panic Peter was feeling worsen. Along with that, he was beginning to lose his train of thought, and his mind went to May and Tony. He wanted May and Tony.

He barely registered that MJ had stood up and was currently up in Flash’s face insulting him to no tomorrow, because Ned was trying to get him to stand too. Eventually, he did, and let his friend guide him away from the watchful eyes. As soon as they were out of the cafeteria, he let a sob out and pulled away from Ned to practically dive into the boy’s bathrooms.

A second later, the door flew open. Peter jumped in fright and almost tripped over, only to see that _MJ_ had followed Ned in. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone else in the bathroom, Peter only able to watch for a few moments as she locked the door behind them.

For a moment, Peter just stood there like a hot mess, fat tears rolling down his cheeks and dripping off his chin. He must have blanked out or something, because the next moment, his legs were warm.

That was just the icing on the cake.

Peter collapsed onto the floor in a heap of limbs and sobbed into his hands. He’d just pissed himself in front of both his friends. In front of _MJ,_ who for some reason was still in the boy’s bathrooms.

“Peter?” Ned’s voice entered his head, but he didn’t really comprehend what was happening when someone helped him move away of the puddle of his own piss. His mind was filled with confusion, eyes blurred with tears as he leaned toward the person, which had ended up being Ned, sobbing into the boy’s shoulder. “Um, MJ? Can you get the nurse?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” The door unlocked, then opened, then closed. Peter was distantly aware that the door was no longer locked, and anyone could walk in on the scene he created, but he ignored it all and clung onto Ned for comfort. He was pretty sure he was half in his headspace now, but all he could think about was Flash’s mean words, the fact that he’d pissed his pants and that he really wanted May or Tony to be here.

“It’s okay, Peter.” Ned’s voice was softer than Peter had ever heard it. It was probably the Caregiver tendencies. “You gotta calm down.”

“I c-can’t.” Peter heaved, essentially hyperventilating at this point.

Not only was he between headspaces, he was having a panic attack too.

“Uhm.” Ned mumbled, voice now a little panicked. “Can you copy my breaths?”

Ned took deep, exaggerated breaths. Peter tried to follow along, but each breath ended with a choked sob and more hyperventilating. After what felt like years, which was only probably a few minutes, he was breathing decently enough not to choke on his tears. He leant against Ned, thumb fully in his mouth as he tried to soothe himself, eyes staring straight ahead.

“Good job.” Ned said quietly. “I’m proud of you.”

Strangely enough, Peter’s Little side felt a large rush of pride at the praise.

At the same time, the bathroom door opened. Peter whimpered and hid his face in Ned’s chest, terrified that it wouldn’t be the nurse or MJ. When a gentle hand began to rub his back, he knew it wasn’t Flash or any of his goons.

He peeked out from Ned’s chest to see Kelly, the nurse, looking at him with a soft but slightly saddened expression. He didn’t say anything, tears still dripping down his soaked cheeks as she began to speak.

“Hi, honey.” Her voice was nice. Sweeter than it had been in the office on Monday. “Did you have an accident?”

Mesmerised by the tone of her voice, Peter mutely nodded.

She made a small, sympathetic sound, then pulled some tissues from her pocket to wipe some of his tears and snot away. One part of Peter’s mind was horrified that he was letting this woman see him cry and suck on his thumb, but the other part was dying for the comfort. He was stuck.

“That’s alright, no one is mad at you sweetie. These things happen from time to time.” Peter was so embarrassed. Both Ned and MJ were watching him act like a… like a stupid baby. Just like Flash said. “Why don’t you come along to my office and we can get you cleaned up and call your parents. How does that sound? Your friends can come with you, if you like.”

Peter nodded, even though he knew they wouldn’t be able to reach May.

Together, the three of them helped Peter stand. The sobs started to come back at the uncomfortable feeling around his waist and down his legs, but Kelly only shushed him as they began to make the long walk to the nurse’s office. Ned’s arm remained around his shoulder, and MJ held his hand tight in her own.

To his luck, they didn’t come across anyone in the halls, aside from Mr. Harrington who looked especially concerned. The man was wise enough not to say anything.

Upon reaching the office, Peter was ushered into the small bathroom with some new pants and underwear. He stood there for a long time, staring at himself in the mirror, before he wiped his face and got himself changed. His movements were more sluggish than usual, and he couldn’t stop crying.

The whole cafeteria would know he was a Little by now.

Peter shuffled out of the bathroom wiping his tired eyes, and gladly collapsed onto one of the beds in the room when instructed. Kelly hovered for a moment, essentially tucking him in. Ned and MJ sat beside his bed, watching him with sad but concerned eyes as he pushed his thumb back into his mouth.

“I’m going to call your Aunt, alright, sweetie?” Kelly called from her small office that connected onto the actual medical room. Peter didn’t respond and closed his eyes instead, knowing that May wouldn’t be there to answer the call. She was in a long-winded surgery right now.

He avoided eye contact with Ned and MJ as he listened to the phone ring with his senses. Kelly rung May three times before she let out a soft sigh. Peter heard her shift a few papers before she spoke.

“Your Aunt isn’t picking up. Do you know why?”

“I think she’s working a long shift, isn’t she?” Ned spoke for him. Peter just nodded and kept his eyes shut.

“Oh.” Kelly replied. “I’ll call his emergency contact.”

She sounded unsure. Peter furrowed his eyebrows. He had an emergency contact?

Whoever the emergency contact was, they picked up within two rings.

_“Yeah, hello, it’s Stark. Who is this?”_

Peter’s eyes shot open. Tony?

“Oh, yes, hello Mr. Stark, sir. This is the school nurse, my name is Kelly, from Midtown. I'm calling about Peter Parker? You’ve uh, you’ve been listed as his emergency contact? Is that correct?”

Peter, who had returned to some form of calm, cracked immediately. He curled into himself and sucked harshly on his thumb, mostly out of fear. Tony was going to find out. The man that had become his third father figure was going to find out and never talk to him again.

_“Yes. Where is he? Is he okay?”_

“Yes, he’s fine. He’s just had a bit of an accident at school.”

“N-no.” Peter blubbered and shook his head. Ned and MJ looked alarmed but said nothing as Peter continued to listen to Kelly’s conversation with Tony. Someone’s hand rested on his shoulder, but Peter wasn’t sure whose it was. “Don’ tell.”

_“Accident?”_ Tony blurted. _“Is he injured?”_

“No. Are you… are you aware he has been classified?”

There was a long pause. Peter wanted to scream.

_“No. I wasn’t.”_ Tony knew now. He _knew_. This was where he was going to hang up. _“I’ll be there in thirty.”_

“Oh! Great.” Kelly replied cheerily, seemingly unfazed that Tony was clueless. “See you then.”

_“Yep. Bye.”_ Tony hung up.

Peter’s stomach dropped.

He heard Kelly step back into the room, but he still didn’t open his eyes. “You're, um, Tony is coming to pick you up.”

“M’kay.” Peter muttered like he didn’t already know.

Against all odds, Peter drifted off to sleep right there in the middle of the nurse’s office, too exhausted to remain awake.

-

Peter came back into consciousness to a gentle hand caressing his cheek. He shifted, thumb still tucked into his mouth, eyes sore from crying so much. Without really thinking about it, he whined, feeling incredibly groggy and fuzzy.

“Hey Underoos.” The hand began to card through his hair instead. “You wanna open your eyes for me, kiddo?”

Peter realised with a jolt that the voice belonged to Tony. His heart began to beat faster as he peeled his aching eyes open to see his mentor staring down at him, brown eyes filled with concern. It was completely different to the hatred Peter expected to see, and he couldn’t help but use his other hand to reach out for his Da- for Tony.

“There you are.” Tony smiled down at him. Peter looked around, only to see that MJ and Ned were no longer with him. “Your friends had to go back to class. They told me to say goodbye for them.”

Peter nodded a few times, fingers clenching around the fabric of Tony’s shirt. He was pretty sure he was still stuck in between headspaces.

“’M sorry.” Peter whispered. It didn’t really feel like he could talk. “Was bad.”

“No, Petey, you weren’t bad. It was an accident.” Tony shook his head and tapped his cheek fondly. “Come on, buddy, let’s go home.”

“Home?” Peter questioned.

“The Compound.” Tony clarified. Peter nodded along, and slowly began to sit up.

The walk to the car from the nurse’s office was a blur. Tony’s arm was secure around his shoulder, Peter leaning into the touch the entire way. He didn’t really come back to himself until he was in the car, curled up against Tony with Happy driving.

Now Happy was going to know too. _Everyone knew._

Peter had never felt so exposed in his life.

The car ride home was silent. Peter almost fell asleep again but was jolted back into reality when Tony announced they had arrived at the Compound. Peter stumbled with his mentor, struggling a little to keep up, which was odd. He tried not to think about what was going to happen, about how Tony was going to tell him not to come to the Compound anymore.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Tony asked once Peter was settled into the couch. Peter nodded; knees pulled tight to his chest. Tony sat beside him, just like normal, a casual arm slung over his shoulders. “What movie?”

“Toy story?”

“Of course.”

For the first ten minutes of the movie, no words were said until Peter broke the silence.

“Sorry.”

“What?” Tony asked. “There’s nothing for you to apologise for. It was only an accident.” The man replied and rubbed his arm in that comforting way that Peter loved. Eyes teary, Peter melted into the touch and desperately hoped that this wasn’t the last time he would be able to do this.

He couldn’t lose a third father figure. But he was, all because he was a gross baby.

“’s okay if you don’t wan’ me to come around anymore.” Tony became tense at his words, which almost confirmed Peter’s worry right there. Peter’s eyes welled up quicker, anticipating the words that were going to come out of Tony’s mouth. Anticipating that he’d never see Tony again because he just had to be classified as a stupid Little. “No babies in the lab. I can stop being Spida-Man.”

Peter frowned a little at the structure of his sentences and the way he pronounced some words but chose to ignore it.

“Pete…” Tony trailed, then placed a gentle finger under his chin and applied pressure until Peter was looking at him. Tony stared into his eyes as he spoke. “This doesn’t change anything. You can still come over, and you can still be Spider-Man. There’ll just have to be some rule changes. I still want you around, Bambi.”

Peter sniffed. He pressed closer to Tony, and in return the man tightened his hold.

“But I’m a baby.” Peter replied, trying to focus on talking properly. It was hard with his headspace threatening to fully take over, along with the fact that he was trying not to cry for the umpteenth time that day. “Letter said I’m under two.”

“That still doesn’t change anything, kid. You know why?” Peter shook his head. “I’m a Caregiver.”

For a moment, Peter didn’t even react.

“Even if I wasn’t, there’s no way I’d just kick you out and take Spider-Man away from you.”

“You’re… Caregiver?” Peter questioned. Tony nodded. “W-what?”

“Not many people know.” Tony answered Peter’s unasked questions. “Only Pepper, Happy, Rhodey. You. I kind of suspected that you might’ve been a Little, but I didn’t want to push. Pete, no matter what classification you are, I’d still love you the same. I practically think of you as my own kid already. I’m sorry I hid my classification from you, it’s just become… normal to me. Howard- uh, my Dad didn’t like it. He made me hide it, I guess I just got used to telling people I’m a Neutral.”

Suddenly, Peter was overwhelmed.

His lower lip began to tremble as Tony smiled sadly back at him. He broke the eye contact and buried his face into his Dad’s chest, a sob forcing its way up his throat. He felt the superhero’s arms wrap around him, and all he could do was let the sobs free as his slower brain tried to process what he’d just heard.

“Shh, shh, bub.” Tony murmured as he began to rock Peter side to side. “It’s okay, Pete. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

After another long, exhausting bout of crying, Peter tired himself out. Now, he was still wrapped up in Tony’s arm, watching Toy Story. Tony was still rocking him, holding him tight, and even pressed a kiss to the top of his head every now and then. Peter felt… he felt _loved._

_Tony didn’t hate him._

When the movie ended, Peter was almost passed out.

Tony must have thought he was asleep, because before he knew it, he was being lifted into the air. He grumbled and whined a little, quite happy to rest his head in the crook of his Daddy’s neck. Tony muttered quiet apologies as he began to walk, bouncing him a little as they did so. This side of Tony wasn’t completely new to him, but it was different. He was gentler than he had ever been before.

He was a Caregiver. It made sense.

When he was tucked in, he couldn’t help but blearily open his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Tony asked when he noticed Peter looking at him.

“Mmm.” Peter hummed instead of actually speaking.

“You’re between headspaces.” Tony commented. Peter didn’t disagree. “That’s okay. I let May know that you’re staying over the night. Or I can take you home if you don’t want to stay.”

Peter thought about it. If this had been before Tony knew he would have taken up the offer. But now, he found that he was really tired, and he felt safe with Tony.

“Wanna s’ay.” Peter sighed and shut his eyes, feeling more tired than he ever had before. “Pwease?”

“Of course you can.” A smile appeared on Tony’s face. “Sleep tight, Spider-Baby.”

“S’ay?” Peter repeated and reached out. Tony paused for a moment before the smile got bigger. Despite the tears that still decorated Peter’s face from his last meltdown, he found himself smiling back, his smile big and genuine. Tony’s eyes were practically sparkling.

“Alright, if I must. Move over Bambino.” Peter happily did and was content to let Tony pull him to his chest. “Goodnight. I love you kid.”

“Mmm.” Peter hummed again. “Nigh’ nigh’ Daddy. Love ‘o.”

If Peter had his eyes open, he would have seen the way Tony’s eyes fill with happy tears at the new title.

Instead, Peter only felt the kiss on his forehead before he drifted off to sleep with a smile of his own on his face.

-

Contrary to Peter’s belief that everything would go wrong the moment he woke up, or that everything had been a dream, things went well.

He fell into his headspace for real for the first time. Peter was completely dropped for three days, and when he came back out of it, he felt different. A good different. More relaxed, happier. It felt like so much stress had been lifted off of his shoulders, even though he was terribly embarrassed that Tony had been the one to look after him the whole time.

He’d wet the bed on the first night, and from there, Tony had bought him pull ups to wear. Peter had been so deep in his headspace that he hadn’t even cared. May had even come to visit.

Now, it was Tuesday. He was laid on the couch, watching TV, unable to force himself to go to school. He still felt kind of floaty, like he was going to go back into his headspace at any second. He probably would. Tony was on the phone with Pepper talking about work, Peter’s feet resting in his lap.

When the phone call ended, Peter asked the question he’d been thinking about since he came back up.

“Mr. Stark?” He asked, voice shaking a little.

“Hmm?” Tony turned; eyes concerned when they turned to him. “What’s up?”

“What am I gonna do now?”

Tony’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t have a Caregiver, and May won’t be able to afford to care for me… and she isn’t a Caregiver. I need one in a month.” Peter broke the eye contact to look back at the movie in the hopes of distracting himself from the conversation he’d started. “What if I have some stranger as my Caregiver?”

“Pete.” Tony sounded a little worried, which brought Peter’s attention back to him. “I can be your Caregiver. I mean, if you, uh, want me to be.”

For a moment, Peter said nothing.

“Really?”

“If you don’t want me to, that’s fine.” Tony hurried out, looking like he was about to start freaking out. “You can think about it, or say no. It’s totally okay. I- uh, shit. The offer is here if you want to take it.”

Peter just gaped.

Regretfully, this seemed to make Tony even more panicky.

“Sorry kid, forget I said anything. I don’t want to pressure you or anything.”

It was odd to see Tony freaking out so much about something so minor. Peter couldn’t get the words he wanted out, so he just sat there with a slack jaw.

Tony actually wanted to be his Caregiver?

Peter thought Tony would hate him. But It was the complete opposite.

“Kid? Please talk to me, you’re making me even more nervous.”

“I-” Peter started but cut himself short. “Yes.”

Tony’s eyes brightened. “Yes?”

“I want you to.” Peter smiled a little. “I already kinda thought of you as like… my Dad. Sorry if that’s weird.”

“Weird?” Tony blurted and shook his head. “Not weird. I promise.”

Then, doubt filled Peter’s mind. “But… it’s too much work.”

Tony shook his head and reached forward to ruffle his hair. “You could never be too much work, Peter. I want to look after you, because you’re my kid.”

Peter beamed, then lurched forward and wrapped the man up in a tight hug. Tony just laughed and hugged him back, chin resting on the top of Peter’s head. They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other’s arms, content. Peter genuinely felt content for the first time since he got his letter.

Maybe, in the end, things would be okay.

He knew it would. Especially with May, his friends and Tony by his side.

_He’d be okay._

**Author's Note:**

> sorry if there isn't enough 'little peter' interacting with tony, this story was mostly about how peter was classified, what he went through and how he got the support from may, his friends and tony. 
> 
> please feel free to leave any prompts, i'm open to write any nsap irondad prompts! (not if it's st*rker though, ew. i can't express that enough)
> 
> <3


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